to multiply and blossom. Fellow teachers are excited to share with me their corners of Spain, where they are from, or they pity me for being posted in such a dull part of the country, I can’t quite figure out which. I am getting into more of a flow at school and I am no less of a celebrity. Students I don’t teach ask for me, and unfamiliar faces greet me in the hallways. I’ve begun going on day trips with fellow teachers when they have errands to run in towns nearby. In this way I have seen Toro, a town equally as insignificant as Benavente but known for its wine and cheese. I thought it was amazing, but I am apparently easy to impress. Recently we had a “Puente” at school, a holiday on Tuesday so we had a 4-day weekend, and I have Fridays, off giving me a 5-day weekend. It snuck up on me, I had not been looking ahead and on Wednesday I scrambled to make plans. That’s when Ana, a fellow teacher, came to the rescue, offering me a detailed itinerary and a ride. I just had to promise to stay out of Asturias because she wants to show me around there herself. I thought rather than going into a long description of my various adventures, I would tell them in a series of very short stories. The last being one that was originally destined to be locked away the archive of misadventures that I don’t share (intrigued?) this turned out to have a good ending after all, so I decided to start out with aa Shakespearean intro. Enjoy! Que Frio Hace!
“Okay dinner is here in 45 minutes” yelled the teacher, motioning to a dark, closed building. People started filing off the bus. Meagan was confused. It was freezing outside. They really expecte
d us to just go stand in that kind of weather for 45 minutes! Meagan was slightly panicked but she seemed to be the o
nly one. Little did she know this was only the first in a long series of standing in the freezing cold. The good news was humans can in fact survive temperatures under 50. Good to know. This was a field trip with 30 students and 2 teachers to a small city called Soria, known for its cathedral, mushrooms and cold weather. It was a fabulous field trip. I don’t carry the official title of teacher, nor of student, so I enjoyed all of the perks of being a teacher and none of the responsibilities. Sign me up again! Unfortunately this was my first encounter with truly cold weather in a couple of years and the shock was debilitating. After the guided visit to the cathedrals current art exhibit I followed the teachers to a café and warmed myself with some coffee and a traditional Spanish lunch, 2 courses, dessert, wine and coffee. The best part of it all? I even got reimbursed for the lunch. This is definitely the way to see the country!
A Mystery Solved
“Hmm, the window doesn’t quite fit in the frame, why do I find this to be such a problem?” she thought to herself once again as she sat in the hostel bathroom. This had been a recurring monologue in her head since she had arrived in Santander two days before. “Mosquitoes could get in!” She realized with triumph. Promptly chastising herself for the thought as she added a second layer of clothes to survive the cold. Some old habits are hard to shack.
Santander by Foot
After a long day of travel she had arrived and hit the bed, awaking the next morning to the sound of waves gently hitting the beach. She bundled up, which did seem like a strange thing to d
o at the beach, and headed out to see the town. Santander must be one of the most active cities on Earth. When she stepped out onto the boardwalk she found herself surrounded by joggers. Looking in both beautiful directions, she decided to stroll along the beach before heading into town. Soon the joggers dispersed and the bikers appeared. Slightly disgruntled at how lazy all this exercise was making her feel, she decided to head up the hill and in search of coffee. Having been warned about the bad weather of this region and the high likelihood of rain, she felt blessed to be here on a sunny and only slightly cool day. Much rejuvenated she set out for the town center to see if she could find a map. Walking for a while along the coast where hints of snow covered peaks could be seen far away on the other side of the bay, then moving into the streets where old churches waited to be found, Meagan eventually crisscrossed most of town.
In the late afternoon the wind picked up but the people of Santander seem to see every change of weather as a blessing. Soon the bay was dotted with color, looking closer it was a wave of wind surfers drawn out to be tossed around the windy weather. She wandered to the beach on the other side of the city (yes they have not one but two equally beautiful beaches) where the surfers had staked their claim. Eventually she turned a corner and found a gypsy market stretched through a tunnel. Old books, toys, clothes and random antiques covered tables and drew people from all over the place. Exhausted by watching all of these sports and feeling like the wind could very easily blow her away she made her way back to the beach where she began.
Acebosa & San Vincente
One cool night, not too hot but too cold, 
In Northern Spain, where we lay our scene,
Twas a small pueblo where so few abode,
Where a train station sat, minute though clean.
Though station and town shared not a name,
An unaware traveler, with ticket paid,
Descended at the petty town all the same.
Soon finding there was no place to have stayed,
With bag on her back she took to the street.
Through beauty she walked, though blind for the night,
City lights sparkles her eyes would soon meet.
A city before her did stand, quite a sigh
t.
Soon bed she would find, and pillow for dreams,
So the story I’ll recount’s not as bad as it seems.
Up until now I had followed the itinerary given to me, but nothing seemed to be going my way on Monday. That should have been my first indication to take shelter in the first hostel I saw and not leave. But no, I wanted to see some more sights and Santilla de la Mer came highly recommended. My itinerary had been written by one friend who was from a region nearby and reviewed by another who grew up in this very region. However, it soon became clear to me that they were accustomed to travelling by car. Upon getting off the train in Cabezon del Sal and realizing that this town held no hope of harboring transport to Santilla I should have noticed indication number two. But I was not deterred, I went to Torredelavega where I failed to find the bus station and opted to eat lunch, give up on Santilla and head to San Vincente for the night. It looked big on the map and sounded like a far more beautiful place than where I was. Yep it seemed like a great idea, I was thinking as I got on the train. I watched out the window as the towns and stations got smaller and smaller. As we pulled up into a particularly small pueblo I could not help but hope that the towns started getting bigger, because if I got off in a place like that I was screwed. So you can imagine my heart-stopping horror when I saw the words “San Vincente” written on the wall of the station.
The sun had begun to set as I numbly got off the train. I looked at the town which was not in fact San Vincete, nor do I believe it was a real town, more of a collection of house. A quick glance into town told that there was no lodgment for me there. I walked to another town nearby which proved to be equally as minute. I stood in the twilight between the two tiny towns as options raced through my head. I could just wait at the station for the train that would come in 15 hours, I could go knock on doors and hope for the kindness of strangers, or I could try and get to the well-light town I could see in the distance, the only problem being the highway the stretched between the town and me.
I saw the sign indicating the direction of the real San Vincente, adjusted my backpack and started walking. Luckily I found a way to bypass the highway, one bit of luck for the day. I walked for what felt like hours, panic still ringing in my ears. “Maybe I should not have left the train station,” “I wonder how much further this place is,” “Is this even the right road” soon the lights from the highway left me and I was left with only the twilight for company.
I came to a bridge and crossed it, feeling more hopeless with each step when suddenly the street was light up, there was a sidewalk! I picked up the pace, feeling reenergized and the indescribable s
ensation of an adventure accomplished washed over me when I turned a corner and saw San Vincente before me, covered in signs for hotels. Feet and shoulders aching I went into the first hotel I saw, luckily it was only a 2-star. I went up to my room, ran a hot bath and soaked as I watched American tv shows in Spanish.
The next morning I woke up and discovered that the road I had walked the night before must have been beautiful because there was beauty in every direction. First I walked up to the 13th century gothic cathedral. On one side were snow covered peaks, on the other waves crashing against cliffs. I think this day, my last on this adventure, was the best of them all. Maybe it was the beaches or the mountains, or maybe it was that burst optimism that fills you after a potentially bad situation turns out ok. Or maybe it was thanks to the walk from the night before that turned out to be a part of the famous pilgrimage route, the Camino de Santiago. Though I thought I was just looking for a place to sleep, really I was on a pilgrimage. What luck!
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